The lizard, who fails to acknowledge his given name of “'Gecky,'” is poised immobile. My pose should also be supine. I prop myself up on my elbows, nursing a mug of crunchy coffee to contemplate the day ahead. The day ahead has merged into the it's neighbour, because one of my children has turned nocturnal. I wonder how the child that can sleep on his head, in a cupboard or drop to the ground at any time for a nap, has morphed into a waking creature, a very perky one at that?
Bed at 8, 'up' at 10 to tell us a secret, followed by hourly visits to impart vital or confidential information, has left us dazed. The 'warning' note to his teacher, will put her in a better coping position. If I had had a 'warning' note yesterday, I might have been in a better coping position myself. Perhaps I should have consulted the star's alignment for guidance? I was certainly in a position to examine each and every constellation with frequency throughout the night. Gecky is still alive after 3 days in our household. I am uncertain if I will fare as well.
I don't bother to check the calendar as I already know that I have a three hour appointment at the dentist in the morning and a three hour [plus] appointment at the school, for Junior's IEP in the afternoon. It is hard to assess rationally, which will be more painful?
Several zillion jobs [translation = chores] scream at me, from the never ending and constantly expanding list of 'things to do.' I consciously ignore it on the counter behind me. Things to buy, things to fix and mend, to include the sprinkler system, which in turn requires speech from me on the telephone. Is there no end to the misery and torture of my current existence?
Since I will be seeing real people today, this means that I must dress accordingly and attempt 'rational parent' appearance. Do I possess any matching garments in my closet? Will I recognize anything that matches? Will I be able to gain entry to my theoretically 'walk in' closet? Would attendance wearing a dressing gown be to obvious? I wonder if the shower I had at 3:10 a.m. can 'count' for 'today'? I fail to see how a shower at any time of the day or night will make me sound like a rational parent, when my speech is slurred by braces and my brain is slurried by sleep deprivation.
Since I am now an American, this means that if I am to present myself in public, I must be hairless. Do I have one of those things still? What is it called? Oh yes, a razor. Surely I must have one of those rusty old things hanging about somewhere?
Maybe I should just dip myself in a vat of “Immac” and be done with it?
Forget eugenics, I'm all for cloning: 'Clone! Get thee hence forthwith to the IEP meeting, and don't forget to take careful notes. Report back with 'done deal.''
I pull over the dish of 'homework' coins. I fumble. I pull out the pennies, discard the foreign rogues. I slip the former into a bag for the school charity drive. I recall that once upon a time, this was an easy exercise, swift and efficient. Did I ever “work in a Bank” or was that someone else? I cross off number 623 of the list as 'done.'
Out of the window, I see the first rain drops plop onto the patio. [translation = deck] Typical! That's all I need, a 'fight' with the tactile sensitive and the tactile immune, one with a 'rain dance' and another rolling in the puddles! Struggles with umbrellas, the armour of protection but a Rubic's cube to open. I pout, or would do if my lips were not numb.